This City is Contagious
by DearSweetPapercut
Summary: With the strain of distance on their marriage new problems seem to arise...but things are not how they seem. GSR.
1. Chapter 1

A GSR story- isn't this something?

But things are not how they seem...

Please review- let me know if you want me to continue.

Disclaimer: I own zilch.

**This City is Contagious **

**(1)**

The dim light caught the furniture in the room as the sound of the clocks ticking in unison throughout the house reminded him of how long it had been. Time seemed to move too slowly as he sat in the arm chair by the fire. The heat from the crackling orange flames seemed to be doing nothing to warm him as the shivers came from his soul.

It was the third night this week that she had been late, the third night this week he had been sitting up waiting for her. She had called to inform him that she would be late; she was grabbing a drink with the team after a hard case.

She had not invited him and he hadn't bothered asking whether he could meet them; he had learnt not to interfere while she got on with her everyday life because it had only seemed to upset her more. But it had been a good four hours since her shift had ended.

He could almost predict her entrance back into the house, her drunken 'hellos' as she avoided his eye. Turning away from him to collapse in bed still dressed for work and the way she pretended she was asleep when he finally made his way to bed a confused and hurt expression masking his face.

Taking a deep breath he attempted to distance himself from the way that things had become.

A battered old copy of 'The Scarlett Letter' sat in his hands asking him to pay attention to prose rather than the reality that seemed to be hanging over him like clouds on a rainy day. But he realised he could not focus; he could not let his thoughts break away from doubt.

_"She had not known the weight until she felt the freedom."_

The line seemed to resound from the walls, filling his consciousness with a sense of dread as he acknowledged truthfully to himself what was happening.

He had found himself detaching from his wife; he had found himself losing the memories that made her the person she was in his mind. And in the space of their house the pain of the five thousand four hundred and eighteen miles that had previously been between them had not disappeared.

She was the same, he had insisted to himself. But that was not the truth; he was not being honest with himself if he believed that because that was not the case at all. She had learnt to live without him. She had started her own life- alone.

The house was filled with trinkets she'd collected, photo's that she'd taken- she'd build it with her memories. And even though he was a part of these memories- it was as if he was a ghost to her; someone who haunted her, rather than someone who was a part of her life.

He realised that he had no one but himself to blame for that fact, perhaps he should have fought harder to make her stay in Paris with him. Perhaps he should have followed her back to Vegas if it was what made her happy.

But he'd been so busy, with work that he had barely noticed how bored she was sitting at home waiting for him to return. It had amazed him so much that he had been the one that she had chosen that he had forgotten who'd she'd been before.

All of those things that he had loved about her; her passion, her dedication, and her sense of justice had mellowed. But he had never realised that she was losing herself as she walked the streets of foreign cities.

As much as it hurt he could almost understand why she had sought the companionship of someone else while he'd been gone.

He realised that he should have cherished his wife in the way that he had promised he would. And perhaps he wouldn't have been here, in this situation waiting for all of the things they've build to collapse.

Over the last few nights he had begun wondering, who it was. Who had been slowly tearing his wife's heart away from him?

Was it a friend? Someone she barely knew?

"_...but let her cover the mark as she will, the pang of it will be always in her heart."_

He imagined how someone else made her feel the things he didn't- desired, loved, and wanted. And it felt like he had been struck down. He'd found himself studying her form, looking for marks of him upon her skin; ghosts of his caresses.

Sometimes he would imagine asking her. Looking in the eye and calling her out about what was happening between them. But each time words would fail him. He realised he didn't know what to say, or how to respond to her were the truth to be revealed.

It was the fear of losing her that kept his heart at ransom.

The sound of an engine coming to a halt caught his attention; he made the small walk to the window peering out on to the street. A black car had stopped on the street and after a few moments the door opened.

She climbed out clearly unsteady on her feet, slamming the door shut she blew a kiss to the driver before stumbling to the steps of their town house.

Taking a deep breath he prepared himself for what was about to come.

"Honey...I'm home." She slurred giggling slightly as something hit the floor. He made his way to the door to find her in a collapsed heap, the content of her hand bag spilt across the hard wood floors.

"Opps" she laughed again attempting to gather the things. It was an empty laugh, he noticed, it wasn't happy.

She wasn't happy.

"Sara...it's late..." He began but realised that there was nothing else he could say, he couldn't bring himself to confront her.

"Yeah...sorry about that..." She sighed, pulling herself onto her unsteady feet avoiding his eye as she did so. "We got a bit carried away..."

He could smell the whiskey on her breath- he could almost see her sitting in a bar with whoever he was drinking as they shared kisses and jokes. A part of him wondered if the drinking was because she wanted to forget the guilt- if she wanted to forget him.

"You should have called- I could have come and picked you up." He said softly, taking her arm in order to help her stand up straight.

"Its fine, I got a ride with...a friend." The paused in her sentence seemed to hurt more than anything.

Why hadn't she just told him who she was with?


	2. Chapter 2

Please review- let me know if you want me to continue- if it was worth selling my little Sandle heart out for this. :P

Disclaimer: I own zilch.

**This City is Contagious **

**(2)**

The morning brightness was like a spot light calling out her wrongs as her eyes slowly opened to the day that was unfolding before her. Her husband's side of the bed was empty, she noticed with dread imagining him sitting at the kitchen table waiting for an explanation as her thoughts slowly entered her consciousness.

Her mouth felt dry and she could hear her heart beat in her head as she pulled herself up, bile slowly rising in her throat; the taste of last night's whiskey still prominent on her lips. Taking a sip from the glass of water that was left on the night stand she headed downstairs being careful not to catch a glance of herself in the mirror knowing that it would only make the guilt worse.

Grissom was sitting at the kitchen table like she had expected, a mug of fresh coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. He glanced up at her with a nervous expression as if he was attempting to word his concerns but didn't know how to go about it. It was clear he wanted to ask her about the previous night.

"You got home later...than I expected...I was thinking we could spend an evening together before I left for Paris." He was speaking quietly, clearly unsure of himself and Sara realised that it just made it harder to face what she'd done.

"I'm sorry...I got carried away...I should have been more observant of the time." She turned away from him pouring herself a cup of coffee knowing that she wouldn't be able to eat or look him in the eye.

"You could have called me to pick you up." He commented; his attention focused on the paper as he avoided looking at her for fear that evident of the previous night might come to light.

"Yeah...I know, I didn't want to trouble you...a friend dropped me off." She took a deep breath as they continued their conversation both facing away from each other both unable to meet each other's eye knowing that they would find nothing but confusion and betrayal.

"A friend?" He couldn't help but ask; the question seemed to slip out before he had a chance to take it back.

"Yeah...Greg" Sara replied, swallowing a mouthful of coffee hoping Grissom would believe her.

"Greg finally swapped out that mustang, huh?" Despite her silent hopes for him not to continue questioning he continued.

"He...got a new car." She swallowed the lump that was building up in her throat, every word like sand paper as her headache seemed to slowly get worse.

There was a moment of lingering silence between them as they attempted to work out what to say next, where they go from there. Grissom sighed standing up abandoning his breakfast and paper. Sara stood hunched up by the kitchen counter, using it as a support to hold her up.

"I have some last minute packing to do," He explained taking his glasses off before slowly replacing them. "I'll call a cab to take me to the airport."

"I can drive you to the airport..." Sara mumbled, but he had already disappeared leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Abandoning the coffee on the counter she made her way to the bathroom being careful not to step on any of the creaky floor boards not wanting to catch her husband's attention. She locked the door behind her, crumbling to the floor in tears.

She wanted so much for the emptiness to go away, for things to be back to how they were but she realised that would never happen. But she realised that it felt as if things had gone too far, as much as she wanted to change what was happening she felt like she couldn't.

The events of the night before seemed to flash before her eyes, slowly sinking in and becoming reality. When Grissom wasn't there she found it so much easier to pretend that nothing was happening, that nothing was going wrong but looking into his eyes made her deceit real.

With a deep breath she pulled herself up off the bathroom floor, stripping down she made her way to the tub hoping she would be able to wash off the worthlessness that seemed to be plaguing her. But the soap and hot water didn't seem to be doing any good.

As she stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself she realised that she didn't feel any better. The mirror told her of her sins as she studied herself like she would have studied a crime scene.

She didn't look any different, but it wasn't the same person looking back at her. She wondered when she had become so exhausted- when she had given up. Her whole body seemed to want to collapse in every sense of the word.

Studying the person in front of her she wondered how Grissom could ever love her, after everything she did, how he could still want her. She wondered how he could bear to touch her, when she struggled to even look at herself.

Perhaps he didn't.

The thought seemed to be lingering in the back of her mind. His visits had become shorter and less frequent, and when she visited him work seemed to always be the main thing on his mind. They had become so disconnected that it didn't feel like they were the same people any more.

It felt like forever since the last time they'd made love and it wasn't that she hadn't desired it but it just didn't feel right. But it felt as if they were strangers, and sex just didn't seem to be suitable to the situations they had found themselves in.

They would awkwardly sit together and watch television or go to dinner and struggle to maintain conversation because they did have a life together. They were functioning as separately as they could and the small details would seem irrelevant.

After returning home they would find themselves exhausted from attempts at maintaining each other's company and sex just seemed to disappear as an option because all they wanted to do was cocoon themselves from the truth. They didn't know what was happening any more.

The one thing that she did know was that she wanted to make this work that was she was willing to do whatever was necessary to try and get things back to track. She took a deep breath a realisation settling in.

This needed to end.


	3. Chapter 3

Please review!

Disclaimer: I own zilch.

**This City is Contagious **

**(3)**

The feeling of the warm sheets surrounding her seemed to comfort Sara as she woke, her headache had dulled and she felt as if she could finally begin functioning as herself again. Tossing the covers aside she stretched out on the bed with a sigh as she thought up how she could make up the previous night to Grissom.

She had made a mistake, she knew that, but she also knew that she wanted to make things better between them. She hadn't married him thinking that they would just let it end, and she was more than willing to fight for their relationship.

But as she rolled over she saw a note propped up against the bedside lamp; her name scrawled on it in Grissom's hand writing. With a frown she lifted the paper up, unfolding it carefully, smoothing over the edges before she began reading.

_Dear Sara,_

_I didn't want to wake you- you look so peaceful when you're sleeping. I've taken a cab to the airport; I didn't want to trouble you. _

_Absence diminishes small loves and increases great ones, as the wind blows out the candle and blows up the bonfire. - __Francois de la Rouchefoucauld_

_I love you,_

_I'm going to miss you._

_Always yours,_

_Gil. _

As she placed the note aside the silence of the room seemed to engulf her, the knowledge that she was alone again seemed to settle in like bad weather. Sara placed the note aside and chose to ignore what it meant for her, for their marriage.

Deciding that she was no ready to face the day, she climbed under the covers again and bathed herself in false warmth as she attempted to overlook her husband's absence. The thought of her diversion stayed prominent in the forefront of her mind.

But she had promised herself that she wouldn't let it happen anymore- that she would stop herself- her dependence.

Finding the remote, she switched on the TV flicking through the channels, the day time programs providing nothing interesting for her to watch. But she liked the noise the television provided; the voices made her feel less alone. Ignoring the things playing out on the screen she closed her eyes attempting to let the waves of sleep wash over her.

When Sara woke again, the feeling of emptiness hadn't faded like she had hoped it would; the sun was slowly disappearing over the horizon casting a dim shadow over Las Vegas. But the city seemed to just be coming alive.

Picking up her phone she pressed speed dial, listening to the sound of dial tones hoping that he would answer.

"Hello?" The sound of his voice provided instant comfort, she thought guiltily.

"Hi, it's me. I was wondering if you wanted to meet for a drink." she asked hoping that the hesitation and desperation didn't come across too obviously in her voice.

"Sure...you want me to come pick you up?" He asked; the sound of key's jangling in the background.

"That'd be great." She replied the knowledge that he was going to be there soon forcing her to get out of bed.

"I'll see you then." They said their goodbyes and Sara didn't know how but in twenty minutes she had managed to shower and dress herself. She looked tired, but she knew that he wouldn't say anything. He never did.

The sound of the door bell ringing through the house brought with a small sense of relief that she wasn't completely alone anymore. She stepped out into the evening air with him, locking the door behind her. An awkward atmosphere had settled between them but they both ignored it knowing that their friendship would override that soon enough.

"So...I thought you were supposed to be taking Grissom to the airport today...with all the traffic I wouldn't have expected you back for another few hours." Greg commented placing a cold beer in front of her as they took their usual seats in the corner of the bar.

"Me too..." She pursed her lips focused on the label on the bottle. "He took a cab..."

"Oh..." Greg nodded, glancing quickly at the floor. "The other night..." He began, quickly catching himself not wanting to make assumptions.

"I...made a mistake...a stupid mistake..." Sara nodded. She made it clear that she wanted to draw a line under the incident and but still making it clear that it had made an impact on whatever had happened between her and Grissom in his last few hours in Vegas.

"How have you been?" He asked taking a sip from his beer watching her, his gaze filled with concern. Sara took a deep breath, still avoiding his gaze, he knew her too well.

"Fine..." She lied, knowing that he would catch her out but it felt as if there was nothing else she could do.

"Sara you know you can talk to me...if you want..." He leant in, muttering to her, his hand covering hers.

"I know...I know..." Sara nodded, her system responding immediately to the contact of his skin. "Have another drink with me..."

"I can't...I promised DB I'd have my case report in by the end of shift...I'm sorry...I can drop you off." He offered apologetically.

"It's fine...I'll get a cab." She smiled, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek to let him know that it was okay.

"Call me...if you need anything." Greg squeezed her and gave her a quick smile before he disappeared, leaving Sara the way she had started that evening- alone.

Taking a seat at the bar Sara ordered another beer the sensation of dread filling her as she attempted to fight what she was feeling.

Her phone rang, and from Brass's caller ID she waited a few moments before she answered it, she knew well enough to know that he would not be calling with good news.

"Sara...I thought it would be best you hear this from me..." He paused, taking a deep breath before he continued. "Colin Fisher has been released on bail because of a technicality..."

"What are you talking about?" Sara asked not comprehending what he was saying. "The man raped and murdered six girls and they're letting him out?"

"I'm sorry- the DA...he's just covering his arse...if his attorney-"Brass attempted to explain knowing full well that her anger would get the better of her.

"Whatever..." Sara hung up the phone, tossing it her handbag with all intentions of ignoring Brass's future calls.

She ordered another drink resting her head in her hands as she attempted to let the anger wash away.

It was going to one of those nights...


	4. Chapter 4

Please review!

Disclaimer: I own zilch.

**This City is Contagious **

**(4)**

Grissom settled into his seat, his eyes studying Las Vegas below them as they took off in the dusky evening sky. The neon of the strip stood definitely against the purple that had crept into the horizon. He took a deep breath attempting to push all of the thoughts and doubts that had flooded in consciousness out of his mind. But he couldn't help himself as his mind wandered to Sara, in her current position.

Was she with _him _right now?

Were they reuniting after his visit?

He wondered if she was wrapped up in _his_ arms, letting _him_ hold her in that they way that she wouldn't let him near her anymore. He wondered if they were making love in her bed, in their bed. If they felt as if they had been apart for ever in the last four days without the warmth of each other's bodies, the taste of each other's skin.

After so many years he had finally started becoming comfortable with the idea that she was his. Marriage had brought them even closer together, and he realised that he had never seen her happier than the day they had exchanged their vows.

How had things changed so much in such little time?

The question had been playing on his mind for a while. He knew she had grown bored with their life in Paris, but he had never suspected that things had gotten so bad that she would have sought to be with someone else.

Was she in love?

Grissom wondered if attempting to find comfort for the problems in their marriage she had found someone that she loved and wished to be with. Or was it just about the sex? Perhaps she had just found someone that made her feel passionate, alive again; someone who fulfilled her desires.

And in that moment it struck him that he didn't want to know, that he didn't want to think about her with anyone else.

"Can I get a glass of Chardonnay?" He asked the flight attendant that was walking by.

"Of course sir" she responded with a smile disappearing past him to retrieve his drink. Switching on his laptop he began scrolling through the emails messages on his University intranet account attempting to get his mind back into the gear of work. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as a familiar name popped up; Abrielle Perrin.

Abrielle had proven herself to be one of his top students in a short amount of time, challenging him in his seminars and lecturers with knowledge that he would never have expected someone of her age to have grasped. Her papers had always put forward provocative arguments with subtle persistence. Grissom had realised that he couldn't be help but he impressed with her. He opened the email looking forward to reading her work.

"Is that your Mrs? She's pretty." The man seated beside him asked, his eyes moving quickly away from the small image of Abrielle that had appeared on the side of his screen.

"What?" He frowned slightly. "No...No, she's one of my students."

"Oh sorry...just with a smile like that- you're either in love or been told you won the lottery." He shrugged.

"Well, neither is the case." Grissom corrected.

"I don't think your Mrs would be too happy about that." The man beside him laughed indicating to his wedding ring. He turned away and put his headphones on before Grissom had the chance to explain.

He was in love and he should have said so, the thought guilty as he glanced down at his wedding ring. He did love Sara; he loved her more than he thought he could love anyone else. She had come into his life shaking his beliefs to their very foundations.

He, also, realised with remorse how he had hesitated to let her be a part of his world, how he had hurt her by not saying anything earlier but claiming that it would not be appropriate. Grissom thought of how he had sat aside and watched her heart build and break over him.

Perhaps she had never forgiven him for those long and painful years?

Perhaps that was what this was about?

With a deep breath and glancing out of the window at the clouds that were engulfing the air-craft as they made their journey he read the email in order to distract himself.

_Salut Sir,_

_I hope Las Vegas is treating you well (but hopefully not better than Paris)._

_The weather here has been rather dire, but I'm sure things shall brighten up once you return. I've missed our chats. _

_I've attached my paper and look forward to reading you feedback. _

_My best regards,_

_AP _

He opened the file taking a sip of the wine that had been brought for him, prepared to start marking with a critical eye. He'd purposely set a hard question hoping that he would be able to challenge his students and see how far he could stretch them.

They had been discussing the psychopathology of rapists linking the idea of personalities into reading crime scenes. Most of students had turned away in disgust at the case study photographs that been plastered up in his power point.

With a small sigh he began reading the paper, the writing style seemed increasingly familiar, the subtle views and questions she shared were those someone else had once asked him; his wife. He recalled the time that Sara had told him about her past, and the questions she had asked about genetics predisposing violence. And in Abrielle's work he saw the same lingering questions about explanations for such crimes.

Grissom realised that he had previously never noticed how similar his student was to Sara. They were both passionate, intelligent, adventurous women sharing similar views and ideas. He thought it strange that he had never made this association before and began wondering how he had never introduced them.

A small smile playing on his lips he began writing his feedback to the paper, expressing how impressed he had been with the ideas and questions she had raised.

He had thrown himself back to work so well that it was almost as if he could forget the problems that had made themselves evident between him and Sara.


	5. Chapter 5

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Disclaimer: I own zilch.

**This City is Contagious **

**(5)**

Sara didn't know how long she had been sitting there; time had seemed to slow with every drink she ordered. Not that she was really ordering properly, at random intervals she would call the bar tenders name and he would appear with a fresh beer for her. She assumed it was bad to know him on a first name basis but she realised she didn't care. She didn't care what he or the sleazy regulars thought about her.

"Hey Derek." she called from her stool turning around to survey the people that had found themselves here, this late on a weekday night. People that were no better than her, she noted.

"Who's that guy over there?" Her eyes rested on a man sat in the corner booth his arms wrapped around a girl half his age.

"Oh that's Ben Rocker." The young man in front of her responded nervously he placed hands in his pockets.

"Are his girlfriends always so...underage?" Sara asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Err...I don't really know...I haven't worked here long..." He replied worried about what Sara was intending to do. She gave him a small smile before picking her beer up and swinging her legs around the stool to stand up.

"Is this guy bothering you?" She asked the young girl, avoiding eye contact with Ben.

"Will you butt out lady- we're trying to have a chat." He snapped at her not giving his date a chance to respond to her question.

"Wow, are you always so charming? No wonder they can't keep away from you!" She shot back, narrowing her eyes at him.

"What's your problem?" He asked as if it wasn't obvious.

"I think you know..." Sara said in a deadpan voice, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Seriously if you don't leave..." He began threatening her.

"Go ahead; put your hands on me...I dare you..." She replied slowly.

"If I put my hands on you you'd know all about it chick." He mildly threatened.

"But you're not going to because I'm the wrong side of 15?" She asked sarcastically.

Ben stood up his hands finding themselves in a vice like grip around Sara's arm but all she did was smile at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Getting defensive are we not?" She laughed slightly not fazed by the way he had roughly pulled her towards him. Giving him a few moments of thinking he had the upper hand before she kicked him in the crotch, twisting his arm around his back she pushed him to the ground.

"I dared you didn't I?" She said breathlessly as she rested her knee in the centre of his back.

Brass appeared in front of her; at some stage Ben must have called the cops. Sara glanced up at him not knowing how to respond to his presence.

"Come on..." He offered her his hand, and without thinking Sara took it, letting him pull her to her feet. "I've called Greg...go wait outside for him."

"Jim..." Sara began to explain but she realised that she didn't know what she could say, and all of the drinks she'd had that night seemed to be hitting her in one go.

"Just go Sara." He instructed through gritted teeth but she persisted to try and talk. With a sigh Brass turned to her. "What are you trying to do Sara, lose your job? Someone else could have responded to the call and you know what you could have. But I made sure I took it. I'm trying to help you out...so will you just leave?"

She nodded silently making her way to the door tears stinging her eyes as she attempted to gather her thoughts. But they didn't seem to be making any sense in her head as she sat herself down on the curb, her head in her hands.

"Sara..." A familiar voice filled the air surrounding her. She glanced up to see Greg watching her with concern. Not being able to stop the tears that were flooding past her eye lashes she turned away from him.

"Hey...it's okay...you're going to be fine..." He muttered to her as he pulled her to her feet and into his arms. Sara let herself melt into his embrace, using him for support to keep her standing burying her face in his neck. The familiarity of his scent overwhelmed her as she attempted to explain to herself why she had made such a stupid mistake.

"I convinced the guy not to press charges..." Brass announced as he stepped out. "Take her home."

Greg nodded pulling Sara tighter into his arms hoping that he was doing something to make her feel better, doing something to dull the hurt. He helped her to the car, letting her slid into the passenger seat.

The drive back to Sara's house was silent as she stared straight ahead, her eyes blank as she lost herself in her thoughts ignoring the concerned glances Greg was throwing her way. She didn't want to talk to him; she didn't want to attempt to justify her actions tonight.

And once Greg had parked outside of her house he turned to face her attempting to word the right thing to say to Sara in this moment but he realised that he had no idea what to say. She remained perfectly still not moving a muscle in her seat.

She'd shut down. She had closed the world out. Her expression was blank but her stormy eyes told enough about the conflicts she was putting herself through. Greg took a deep breath climbing out of the car opening the passenger side door he scoped her up in his arms.

Once they were inside the atmosphere simply seemed to thicken; Greg carried Sara to her bedroom and placed her down on the bed. He removed her coat, shoes and jeans and pulled the covers over her as if she were a child.

Greg placed a gentle kiss on her forehead but as he tried to pull away Sara clung to his arm, sobbing into the soft fabric of his t-shirt. Not saying a word about her turmoil she simply held on to him and Greg didn't tear himself away from her like he knew he should have done. He slid beneath the covers pulling her into his arms holding her as close to his warmth as he could.

"Things are going to be just fine..." He muttered to her, running his fingers through her hair. "I promise..."

She eventually stilled in his arms, closing her eyes letting his comfort provide her with enough calm to let sleep wash over her. Greg slowly moved away from her, he pulled her covers around her shoulders, with another kiss on her forehead he disappeared into the living room.

With a sigh he laid down on the sofa, throwing a blanket over himself while thinking about all of the things that had happened that night.

How had things become such a mess?


	6. Chapter 6

Please review!

Disclaimer: I own zilch.

**This City is Contagious **

**(6)**

The Parisian landscape stood defiantly below them as they made their way towards Charles De Gaulle airport. Grissom took a deep breath preparing for landing, for becoming the other self he lived as while in Paris.

As he moved through the airport, he found it bizarre getting used to the sound of announcements in French first. Picking up his luggage he made his way into his second life, following the signs for the Metro.

He always travelled light, leaving enough in Vegas for his short visits and only taking essentials such as gifts for Sara and the team. He adored seeing her eyes light up as she unwrapped the small, quirky trinkets he would bring for her. But the thought made him sad as he realised it had been a long time since he'd seen that sparkle in her eye.

He wondered if she shared that look with _him;_ as he stood on the bustling platform waiting for the next train.

The people around him seemed to be lost in their own words focusing on the books in their hands, the music playing in their ears or the notes they were making ignoring what was happening beyond them.

Grissom found it odd how the best times to think were the times that he was surrounded by people. The silence in the carriages was the perfect place to let questions linger, and let wonderments fill his consciousness. Recently most of his thoughts had been surrounding Sara and their marriage.

The announcement for his stop came, and he let go of the things that flooded his mind as he made his way towards his apartment. It seemed oddly comforting being back in a space he recognised so well. Being in Vegas it felt as if he was in Sara's house, rather than their home.

It was as if they had taken steps back in their relationship, rather than forwards.

He placed he bag down and after showering rested, attempting to sooth the effects of jet lag as they settled into his system. Grissom knew that he needed to get back into the swing of things very quickly as deadlines were approaching. Exhausted, he found it easy to quickly fall asleep not bothering with changing or showering.

When he woke the sun had already set outside and an indigo blue sky stretched out over the landscape. He took at deep breath at the cities beauty- it had been one of the things that had drawn him to Paris in the first place. The architecture, the culture and history created somewhere extraordinary for academics.

Grissom took a shower, making himself a microwave dinner as he paced around considering whether he should call Sara. As the microwave pinged he decided against it, not wanting evidence to support the ideas that had been festering in his mind.

The journey to the University campus was a quiet one; the only people using the metro at the time were youngster heading on a night out. He knew that it was late, and slightly pointless to attempt work but he realised that he just needed to get out of his own head- he needed an escape- a diversion.

He set himself up in his office, admiring the oak furniture and elegant lamps that created the interior. Switching on his PC he let the buzzing sound fill the small space as he retrieved the books he needed to begin planning his next lecture.

With a pot of tea beside him Grissom had lost himself in the work laying on the desk before him barely noticing her entre the room.

Abrielle remained beside the door waiting for him to look up and meet her eye before she made herself comfortable in his personal space. Her slim frame was leaning against the wood her hands tucked into the pockets of her black coat, her dark hair was cropped short held out of the way by a red ribbon, her pale blue eyes surveying him as if he were a specimen.

"Ah, Abrielle, come in." Grissom smiled warmly at her. "I've just made a fresh pot of tea if would like some."

"Merci" she replied sitting down in the chair opposite him pouring herself a mug of tea. She gave him a quick smile before peering at the books before him- reading the titles upside down with ease.

"'Identifying behaviour patterns of Power Reassurance Rapists' sounds fascinating." She mused.

"It is..." Grissom smiled back. "I have to say Abrielle, your paper was remarkable, and you touched upon things I wouldn't have expected..."

"Thank you..." She blushed, turning quickly away from him taking a sip of her tea. Finding the motion endearing Grissom continued with his complements.

"The question you raised about the violence of each crime being reactive and unpredictable...was very insightful." He offered.

"It was something you said in one of our seminars..." She nodded, her eye gleaming in the dim lighting. "How was Las Vegas?"

"It was good." He nodded realising that talking with a student about his marital problems would have been a terrible idea.

"Is this your wife?" She asked pointing to one of the photos on the cabinet behind him.

"Yes," he gave a small smile at the picture of Sara on their wedding day.

"She's beautiful." Abrielle commented, her eyes not leaving the image.

"She really is." Grissom thought out loud.

"How come we've never met her?" She asked curiously.

"She lives in Las Vegas..." Grissom explained, realising once he'd set it out loud their distance seemed insane.

"That is far...must be hard." Abrielle shrugged.

"I'm sorry I never asked- what is it that I can do for you?" Grissom questioned her changing the topic.

"Oh nothing, I just happened to be walking by and I saw your light on...thought I'd drop in and say hi." She beamed at him. "It's been quiet without you here..."

"Ah- now I'm back let the work commence..." Grissom laughed.

"Have you had dinner?" She asked, moving forward in her chair slightly picking up one of the books from his table.

"Unless microwave meals counts...not really." He replied watching her as she flicked through the pages.

"I was heading out for a bite to eat if you'd like to join me..." Abrielle asked; her eyes wide as if to say that this was nothing but an innocent encounter and Grissom realised that he couldn't resist.

This life had been lacking in company- it was a fact that he could not deny. His days were often spent alone cooped up in his office and his nights spent in the confides of his apartment.

"That sounds wonderful..."


	7. Chapter 7

**Warnings, clarifications etc.: I just wanted to throw out there- I'm NOT usually a GSR writer. And this is an angst filled- depressing story. It's going to be a bumpy road with many painful revelations- I just want to let you all know now- because it will get worse. And if you're starting to find it's not your cup of tea- I'd advise you to walk away now rather than tear my head off later!**

Please review!

Disclaimer: I own zilch.

**This City is Contagious **

**(7)**

When Sara woke the sound of morning radio floated into the room, her head pounded in her skull as yet another hangover settled in. She couldn't stop the groan that escaped pasted her lips as she attempted to let her body adjust to the daylight that was flooding through the windows.

"I thought you could use this." Greg's voice entered her ears just as she closed her eyes again forcing her to wake up. Sara pulled herself up into a seated position her eyes putting together an image of him before her. In his hand was a glass of fizzing liquid- aspirin she assumed.

"Thank you..." Her voice cracked as she attempted to speak to him. Greg simply just nodded handing her the glass and perching on the bed beside her.

"I've made breakfast, for when you're feeling up to it." He said gently, meeting her eye with caution.

"Greg...I'm sorry for last night...for everything I've done recently." She began after she'd taken a sip from the glass he'd given her, the liquid soothing her dry and burning throat. "I haven't been fair to you...to anyone actually."

"Sara, you don't have to say anything..." Greg sighed taking her hand his own.

"I do..." She said her eyes filled with guilt as she studied him. She didn't understand why he was there, why he'd stayed when it would have been so much easier to simply just walk away from the mess she'd become.

"Sara, the only thing you need to do is get help." He muttered nervously, worried about her response to his suggestion. Sara simply just nodded clearly uneasy with the idea. "I'll come with you, if you want me to..."

"Thank you for everything Greg, but I think...I need to handle this on my own..." Sara gave him a weak smile hoping it would be enough to satisfy him.

"Okay, but the moment you need me, I'm on the other side of the phone...any time all you have to do is call." He smiled at her with everything that he could muster.

"I will thank you..." Sara replied taking another sip.

"That's enough thanking me, you need to go shower...you look rough." He joked with a twinkle in his eye that she couldn't resist.

"Aren't you a charmer Mr Sanders" She responded punching him lightly on the arm.

"What can I say...It just comes naturally to me" He shrugged standing up making his way out of the room.

With a sigh Sara tossed aside the covers and made her way into the bathroom. She climbed into the shower letting the hot water wash over her hoping it would take the fuzziness away with it. She smiled as the sound of Greg singing along with Bon Jovi as he padded around the house. She knew she needed to make a change, do whatever it took to improve the way things were.

Once she had showered and dressed she went in search of Greg. Sara found him lounging on the sofa his eyes glued to the television as a steaming mug of coffee sat in his hands.

"I never knew you watched 'Keeping up with the Kardashians'" Sara teased as she threw herself into the seat next to him.

"I don't...but I was channel flicking and it was as if some exterior force was controlling me and I couldn't change channels. They're...fascinating..." He commented barely noticing Sara take the mug of coffee out of his hand.

"Pervert" She snorted, not being able to help herself she took a sip of the hot coffee enjoying the bitter taste swirling against her taste-buds.

"Am not..." Greg insisted taking the coffee back from her. "Get your own..." he pouted pretending to be annoyed with her teasing.

"My house, my rules" Sara smirked taking the coffee out of his hands once again.

"Well I spend so much time here I might as well put it down as a second residence..." Greg laughed giving up on the coffee.

"That's true." Sara mused. "What are your plans for today?"

"I don't have any plans my social calendar has been very empty of late." He replied sounding slightly defeated. "What about you?"

"Well Ecklie says I watch too much TV...So I'm not going to do that..." Sara sighed.

"We could do something...What do you feeling like doing?" Greg asked as her feet found their way onto his lap.

"I want to get out of the city for a bit..." She sighed tilting her head slightly looking past him out of the window.

"We could do that...go up to Lake Mead..." He suggested kneading her feet.

"Sounds good...I have a phone call I have to make first." Sara smiled placing a kiss on his cheek handing him the mug back.

She took the phone into her bedroom pacing as she listened to the dial tone waiting for Grissom to answer. She could almost imagine him sitting at his desk, pouring over books in his dimly lit office, caught up in work.

"Dr Grissom's office" He answered, his voice clearly tired.

"Gil, it's me...sorry I didn't call earlier...I got caught up with some stuff..." She spoke, pleased to hear the sound of his voice.

"Sara..." There was a rustling sound in the background and the sound of a woman's voice saying _'I'm going to the bar, would you like a drink'_. There was more rustling and Sara assumed he'd put his hand over the phone while he replied to the woman's question.

"Sorry about that dear...how are you?" His voice returned, filling her ears while other thoughts had already occupied her mind.

"I'm fine...Where are you? I can't hear you that well?" She asked.

"I'm with a student..." He said slowly.

"Okay...I'll leave you to it...talk later bye." More than a few questions were on her mind but she attempted to ignore them as they said goodbye. She couldn't understand why he was drinking if he was with a student, but then the idea of him lying also seemed absurd. With a sigh Sara fixed herself up- ready for a day lounging in the sun beside the lake.

The day floated by without either of them realising, the sun began disappearing over the horizon as they lay watching the sky turn to night above them, realising that soon enough they would be at work again starting a new shift.

"Sara can I ask you a question?" Greg muttered to her taking a drag from his cigarette before offering it to her.

"Sure..." She took the cigarette watching as smoke rolled past her, cautious of what he could ask her, of the amount of honesty he wanted to hear.

"What's wrong?" He took a deep breath before asking her the question that he really wanted to know the answer to. "Why...have you been drinking so much?"

Sara took a drag of the cigarette in her hand her eyes focused on the sky above rather than the man who was watching her with a critical eye.

"Leave it Greg..." She said in a low voice.

"Sara..." He turned on his side, and eventually she followed suit facing him. "I just want to know how to help you..."

She smiled softly at him, she delicately brushing a hand across his cheek.

"You are helping by being you..."


End file.
